


Oracle

by OverwatchingYouSleep



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Historical AU, One Shot, Shrine Maiden, Spiritual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-10 12:19:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14736851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverwatchingYouSleep/pseuds/OverwatchingYouSleep
Summary: Sojiro Shimada needed advice from an Oracle, but you didn't need to divine the future to understand what he needed.





	Oracle

**Author's Note:**

> A donation fic that I published on tumblr, reposted here for convenience. Hopefully the research I did for this was accurate
> 
> Check out more of my stuff (heavy adult content warnings) @the-yandere-cryptid.tumblr.com

“What a powerful spirit you hold inside of you.”

The man in front of you blanched. Of course, he hadn’t expected you to notice. What giveaway was there? Nothing that a normal person would be able to pick up on, but you were different. The sight you had was gifted.

“Ah…yes,” he finally answered, folding his legs and sitting across from your table. He was a larger man, obviously cramped in your small home, but he was much too polite to make any complaints. “It’s a family gift.”

“A gift, you say?” you asked him, leaning back to check on your tea. This meeting was different from your usual consultations; this man, Sojiro, had sent word ahead. You made an appointment with him through his messenger, and have been waiting days for his arrival. Wondering what kind of guidance he needed so desperately.

“Power. Passed from generation to generation, given to our heirs as a birthright,” he explained. You wondered how often people were able to even sense that there was something supernaturally powered about this man, much less the electric surge of power that radiated off of his aura. Being so close to it sent your sixth sense into something of a frenzy.

"I see.” You pulled your set of tea cups down from a nearby shelf and placed them on their saucers, one for each of you. “I hope that it is a boon for you.”

“It is.” You didn’t need heavenly vision to see that the conversation was being drawn to a close. With a polite smile, you excused yourself and stood to prepare the tea.

Sojiro was a name you’d heard from mouth to mouth, but you’d never had a chance to meet a Shimada in person. They were one of the more powerful clans, warring with other families in Japan for control. The Shimadas in particular were not a large family, but they’d made a name for themselves by overthrowing two seperate rising shogunates from two seperate clans. Obviously skilled fighters, you already understood why. Like you, they were gifted. But it was not like you, where your sight came upon you one day in your early religious training. This was a gift that ran through their very bloodline.

You stepped back into the room, a tray carrying sencha tea balanced perfectly on your hands. You lowered yourself to the table and began to pour the tea, first for him, than yourself. Sojiro had busied himself by looking around your consultation room, where your handmade omamori and talismans sat on tables and hung off of the walls. Where most miko struggled to bring in enough to support themselves, you managed through your notoriety. Diplomats from warring families would travel miles to hear your sage advice. It was through this luck that you could spend free time pursuing your crafts.

“Thank you,” he said as you topped off his glass, steam rising off of the top of his green tea. You placed the kettle back on the tray and raised your cup with his, both hands clamped around the cup as you took a hearty sip. Sojiro followed your lead, pursing his lips in surprise at the flavor. For whatever reason, most of your clients never expected you to have fresh tea, as though you didn’t pick it yourself. But then again, no royalty expected a lowly miko to have the free time for a tea garden.

“This is delicious,” he said, moving to put his cup down, then changing his mind and taking another long sip. You could almost see the exhaustion lift off of his shoulders, the dark circles under his eyes becoming a bit more palatable. He took a deep breath and you sat back. Now was the time to listen.

“My family,” he started, staring at the surface of his tea. “We…are lost. Misguided. I’ve begun to believe we’ve been possessed by demons.”

You quietly motioned for him to proceed, and he did so with poise. He had thought of what to say the entire journey here; it was evident in his words.

“A year ago, my wife…was lost to the wars. Ever since she has been gone, my family is in discord. My sons are in constant feuds, due to one anothers actions. One has been drowning his sorrows in alcohol, night after night. The other, a disgrace. Smearing what remains of my families name by dragging himself from brothel to brothel, creating an embarrassment of himself. They are besides themselves.”

He sighed, and you took another quiet sip of tea. Of course, he had to vent first. So, you motioned once more for him to continue. He crossed his hands in his lap.

“I am at a loss. They have never behaved like this before, and I’m certain it’s because of their mother, but what am I to do? I can’t–I must focus on the war. On protecting our home. But neither of them seem to care. They only concern themselves with what bar they’ll be visiting every night. I can’t…I cannot babysit my grown children and focus on defending our home in the same breath.”

“Of course you can’t,” you told him, finishing off the last of your tea. At the bottom, the sencha leaves decorated the inside of your cup, and you humored yourself by glancing over their patterns as you spoke. “What your sons need is not a caretaker. They need guidance in the form of example.”

Sojiro blinked, obviously expecting a different answer, so you continued. “After such a loss, I can imagine you fell into a deep depression, as did they. These pursuits do not sound like the work of demons, they sound like the efforts of two grieving men to drown their sorrows.”

You lowered your empty cup on its saucer, folding your hands in your lap. “You are strong for not falling into these same pitfalls. Your sons are not the only ones to sink into these habits, but you were blessed with the will to keep headfirst in your duties. You must respect that they will return to their own when they are ready. And as they grieve, steer them towards a healthier outlet. Do not let them destroy their bodies from the inside out, and though it will not be pleasant in the beginning, they will thank you for it when they are better.”

He only stared blankly at you, his cup of tea gripped in one hand, sliding slowly through his grip and towards the table. Just when you feared he was going to drop it, he placed it on his saucer and covered his mouth with his hand.

“…I see…” You smiled as you watched him parse this new point of view. You smiled and clasped your hands together.

“Any more questions?” you asked. He looked up at you, gears ticking behind his pupils, but whatever thought he had stirring trailed off as he glanced over to the wall.

“Omamori?” he questioned. Indeed, a collection of handsewn blessings hung off of your wall, arranged by color and blessing. You had seen him looking earlier, and hoped you didn’t come off as too much of a saleswoman.

“Indeed,” you confirmed. He went to stand, then seemed to think better of himself and hastily finished his tea before he got up. “Five brass coins a piece; I have one or two family charms on the right.”

His hovering hand found the ones you were referring to, and lingered for only a half-second before moving to the one below. “And this?”

“Love.” You expected him to have nothing to do with it, but that answer made him turn the red envelope in his hands inquisitively. Quietly, as though he didn’t want you to see he took it, he twirled the tiny rope around his finger and pulled the blessing into his pack. Then, he produced a single shining gold coin, its brilliance catching your eyes immediately. You nearly choked on your spit.

"Here,” he offered, placing the coin on your table. You stood and bowed without hesitation.

“Thank you for your generosity!” You tried not to get carried away thinking of all the things you could purchase with that little coin. Of course, you had to be down to earth first, putting money into restoring your garden and buying more seeds, and then materials for your readings, and then…you’d still have so much left over. Gold was plentiful in some places, but here you could buy half the nearest town.

“Thank you for your wisdom,” he offered in return, bowing until his curly hair fell over his face, then back up again. “I will put your words to good use.”

“See to it that you do,” you smiled, and without another word, he tightened the strap of his sack and slid out of the front door. You deflated as soon as he left, sinking to your knees and picking up the golden coin he had left you. The last time you had held gold was in the temple where you were trained, golden handles on teapots and ceremonial dishes that was always handled so delicately. Now, in your trembling fingers, it shone brighter than you had even remembered.

Certainly, you’d have reason to remember this visit for a long time.

~~~

Not many people lived in the village you visited for your goods. High up in the mountains, snug in a valley between two behemoths that blocked out the sun for the better part of the days. The air was thin, the soil was untenable. Usually, the only people who found themselves in this valley were castaways and exiles.

All the better for someone such as yourself.

You lived right at the foot of a natural trail, one that you followed every morning. Along the way, you stopped at a small cliff that faced over the nearby town, allowing you the perfect view of all the happenings. Everyone else woke up at sunrise with you, stepping outside of their huts and preparing their fires for breakfast. After looking over the orange dots littering the dawn, you unfolded the bamboo mat you carried underneath your arm and brought yourself to sit.

You would never miss a day of meditating. If the weather made it impossible to concentrate outside, you would do it right in the center of your home, every morning, without fail. It was how you kept your senses open, so to speak. How you remained sensitive to the spiritual happenings around you. It was at your most receptive.

That was perhaps how you sensed Sojiro coming long before he rounded the corner of the trail. He seemed surprised to find you staring right back at him, but his shock wore off faster than yours.

“My…dragons…sniffed you out,” he explained, rubbing his tattoo with his opposite hand. Remembering yourself, you got to your feet and bowed.

“A pleasure to see you again, Sojiro,” you greeted. He bowed right back to you, and you quickly stepped aside to offer him your bamboo mat. He shook his head.

“Please; I do not want you to dirty your robes.” He seemed to admire the striking red against white that complimented your whole body. Ever spiritual, you had maintained the same shrine maidens robes for years, ever since you got them from the same shrine that had trained you. Even as you forgot their importance, he seemed to value it himself.

“Thank you,” you said, lowering yourself back to your knees. He pulled himself down in front of you, over a flatter surface of rock, and brushed his hair back behind his ears. He looked even more tired than the last time you had seen him.

“As I suppose you’ve guessed, I need…your assistance again,” he started, folding his hands in his lap. You did the same and smiled. You were still riding high from the gold he had left you before, your tea garden growing healthier and your charms more intricate. But that didn’t mean you would say no to more.

“Is it your sons?” you asked politely. He sneered.

“Not this time. Well, not, eh, precisely.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes falling down to the mat underneath you. “My entire family, elders, relatives…my whole clan is falling apart. And it is because my wife is gone.”

You pursed your lips, but he didn’t wait for you to urge him forward; he seemed anxious to talk about this himself; no encouragement needed.

“I cannot lead them in the same way that she did,” he lamented, burying his head in his hands. “She was a brilliant tactician, the only reason we came as far as we did. I am lost without her.”

You had a feeling you knew what he was asking. You didn’t advertise spiritual communication as one of your services, but it was something mikos were commonly known to practice. You hoped Sojiro would not expect it of you.

“Have you considered a council of sorts?” you questioned, more a gentle probe than any real advice. He threw his hand up in defeat.

“With who? There were none like her. We are not a large clan; the only thing that will help us succeed over such overwhelming odds are a masters calculations. My wife was second to no one.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your loss,” you consoled him, folding your hands one over the other. He looked up at you; a turbulent emotion raging in his eyes that you couldn’t place, and he turned off to the side before you could figure it out.

“I need her now, more than ever. I need to know how I will help my family.” He was dancing around the subject, but you were pretty certain you knew what he wanted. With that in mind, you picked your words carefully.

“Whatever you decide to do, do not seek your wife’s guidance from the afterlife,” you warned him. He seemed affronted by the suggestion, leaning back slightly.

“Why not?” he asked.

“It is inconsiderate to her afterlife to involve her in your current day problems,” you explained to him, sliding your hands into your sleeves. “Remember her fondly, pray that she knows you appreciate her, but you must recognize that she is beyond Earthly troubles.”

He nodded, ready to accept this. But you could tell that this burst of truth had hurt him. Perhaps it crushed the hope that he had come seeking you out with, the idea that you could channel her for him. At least he didn’t try to argue with you about it.

“As difficult as it may be to find someone with the logic and the foresight that she had,” you told him, in some form of comfort, “you must find someone in this life to help you maintain order.”

His hands clenched into fists in his lap, then softened, his breath escaping him in a wheeze. When he looked up, his face looked as though the conversation had aged him ten years.

“May I have some more of your tea?”

~~~

Your coin purse was feeling more full now than you had ever remembered. Among the dozens of silver and copper pieces you had received in change for the first, two more gold coins jingled in their midst. You pushed them to the side, counting out some copper coins for your trip to the butcher, when a familiar vibration began to resonate in your gut.

Without thinking twice about it, you lit a flame beneath your tea pot and began to brew some hojicha. You knew who was coming.

You pushed all of your money back into your purse, not wanting to seem too greedy for when Sojiro finally arrived. Your trip to the market would have to wait until a little later in the day, when most of the best cuts from the butcher would be gone, but it would be worth it to wait. You didn’t want to be gone when Sojiro was searching you out.

It had only been two days since his last visit; he couldn’t have even made it all the way back home. That meant he had turned around mid-trip to make his way back to you. You hoped that didn’t mean it was an emergency.

You heard the knock on your door right as the tea began to steam. “Come in,” you greeted, pulling the pot off of the little flame.

You were right; he certainly didn’t look well rested. His eyes looked even more sunken, his hair a mess and frazzled around his tired face. He lowered to a kneel at your table wordlessly, and you poured the tea in equal silence. For a moment he watched your hands as you poured, then they drifted off to your rows of omamori, lingering on your family charms.

Your heart dropped in your chest. “Did something happen, Sojiro?”

He looks back at you, but his expression lacks the severity of grief. Instead, he looked like he was a man submitting to fate. He wrapped his jittery hands one over the other around his tea cup.

“Without a second opinion to judge me,” he explained in a voice much raspier than the one you’d heard from him just days before, “I feel like I can no longer make a sound decision for the sake of my family.”

He sipped his tea, and gasped from the relief it brought him. Another long gulp, a little lacking in manners, but you couldn’t fault him. He had completely downed what was in his cup before wiping his mouth and speaking again, much clearer.

“I am only one man, and I…” he covered his mouth, eyes hovering over the teapot. You felt his energy go haywire a mere second before he broke down, clutching his hands together and lowering his head. Begging you.

“Please, be our resident oracle. Come live on the Shimada estate.” You reeled, unable to process the request. His eyes met yours, and you realized with a sharp inhale that he wasn’t fooling around.

“Sojiro, I can’t do that,” you told him, though the idea sounded tempting. The change of scenery, the guaranteed income, not to mention the beautiful temple the Shimadas supposedly owned…and Sojiro wasn’t a bad client to swear loyalty to.

But your wisdom was not bought.

“We need your judgment.”

You shook your head. “My wisdom isn’t meant to win wars, or guide any one person. I am bent to God’s will.” You reached to the small shelf next to your table and pulled off an old scroll, what essentially served as your diploma from the shrine where you were trained. It calmed you to even have it in your hands, looking over the aged paper fondly. “I cannot serve your family alone.”

Still trembling, he held out his cup, and you poured him the rest of the tea in your pot with one hand. Once more, he emptied his cup before speaking, fingers tracing around the rim. "Then, might I propose something else?”

A regular relationship? You’ve had clients arrange to meet you weekly before; and it was hardly unheard of. You placed your certificate back on its shelf. “Certainly.”

Without another word, Sojiro began to rustle in the tiny bag on his hip, producing a brightly colored envelope. You recognized the intricate patterns of your own handiwork immediately.

The bright red text sewn across the front glared out to you as he offered you the talisman.

“Would you instead consider,” he asked, meeting your eyes firmly for the first time since he’d arrived, “joining my family as my lover?”

You were able to get a pretty good read on Sojiro from the beginning, and could usually guess what he would say next. It just made the first time he caught you truly off guard all the more jarring, blinking in rapid succession as you tried to process this even more ludicrous request. How long had this been going on? Did he buy that charm with you in mind from the beginning?

“I…” you drooled, staring down at your own craft being offered to you. You had never once thought about marrying, about settling down with anyone but yourself. Your solitude was self crafted and very satisfactory. “I don’t know…”

But something in you did know. First it was in the back of your brain, the inkling that you would enjoy being taken care of, not dealing with clients. Then it was your body, that began to resonate on a spiritual level with the admiration that Sojiro was leaking into the air, your heart throbbing at the feel of it. You tried to reason with yourself against it, but somehow your list of reasons not was only getting shorter the more you thought about it.

“Come back to my home with me and we can discuss?” he proposed, his last, desperate offer. With labored breaths, you raised your hands to his and took the blessing between your two fingers, charged with so much of his infatuation that it nearly stung you on contact.

“Yes, let’s…discuss.”


End file.
